TREMAYNE. It would be much more surprising if I hadn't come.
BELINDA (sitting down on the sofa). It is a pretty garden, isn't it?
TREMAYNE (sitting down next to her). You forget that I saw the garden yesterday.
BELINDA. Oh, but the things have grown so much since then. Let me see, this is the third day you've been and we only met three days ago. And then you're coming to dinner again to-night.
TREMAYNE (eagerly). Am I?
BELINDA. Yes. Haven't you been asked?
TREMAYNE. No, not a word.
BELINDA. Yes, that's quite right; I remember now, I only thought of it this morning, so I couldn't ask you before, could I?
TREMAYNE (earnestly). What made you think of it then?
BELINDA (romantically). It was at the butcher's. There was one little lamb cutlet left over and sitting out all by itself, and there was nobody to love it. And I said to myself, suddenly, "I know, that will do for Mr. Robinson." (Prosaically.) I do hope you like lamb?